The night was going, breath by breath.

Each time the sound came he felt it wring him, till at last he could not feel so much.
His father got up.

Paul heard the miner drawing his stockings on, yawning.

Then Morel, in shirt and stockings, entered.
"Hush!" said Paul.
Morel stood watching.

Then he looked at his son, helplessly, and in horror.
"Had I better stop a-whoam ?" he whispered.
"No.